Through The Eyes Of A Child
by Mel J1701
Summary: A little boy's influence helps his troubled best friend through difficult times


**Title: **Through The Eyes Of A Child   
**Author: **Mel (e-mail me at [m.a.jooty@dundee.ac.uk][1])   
**Disclaimer: **The characters of JAG are the property of Donald Bellasario, CBS and Paramount and no profit has been made by my utilising them in my story. Everyone else belongs to me.   
**Rating: **PG   
**Spoilers: **None   
**Summery: ** How a little boy's influence helped his troubled best friend through a difficult time in his life.   
**Archiving: ** As long as you ask first and keep my name on it then it should be okay.   
______________________________________________________________________________________________

_Many's the road I have walked upon_   
_Many's the hour between dusk and dawn_   
_Many's the time_   
_Many's the mile_   
_I see it all now_   
_Through the eyes of a child_

_A quote from 'Take It Where You Find It' by Van Morrison and found in the novel 'Sleepers'_

**_._._._._._._._._._._._._._._._._._._._._._._._._._._._._._._._._._._._._._._._._._._._._._._._._._._._._._._._._._._._._._**   
**The Hamilton Residence**   
**San Diego, California**   
**December 24th 1969**   
Me and Harm sat in front of the television in my living room, watching our favourite show, 'Superman'. Even though it was Christmas Eve and we both had to get ready for Santa coming tonight, this was something we always did together no matter what day it was. My mom said we were as predictable as two old grandpas playing chess in the park; I don't see why she says that though, I'm only seven and Harm's six. Adults say the strangest things sometimes.   
  
"I'm going to be just like Superman when I get big," Harm said.   
  
He was such a little kid sometimes. How could he be Superman? He didn't even come from Krypton. As a bigger kid, I knew that but I just kept quiet. Harm was just being silly; at least my dreams were realistic. I wanted to be like Batman, he has a neat car _*and* _he doesn't come from another planet.   
  
"Hey, babies," Richie said. "Whatcha watchin'?"   
  
We turned around to see my big brother, Richie, stroll into the living room. If I knew his baseball game was finishing early, I would have gone to Harm's house. My brother was twelve and the meanest person I ever knew except for Principal O'Brian. Richie always called Harm and I 'babies' or, if I was on my own, he called me 'twerp'. It can be annoying, especially since when I was a baby I thought my name was 'twerp' instead of 'Robbie'.   
  
Harm doesn't like my brother either because Richie picked on him for being the smallest kid in the school. I don't why Richie does that; he used to be small too. I tried telling Harm that he would grow up too one day but I don't think it worked. He's just happy he doesn't have a big brother of his own to bully him. Maybe if I moved in at Harm's house then we could be brothers and Richie would go away.

"'Superman,'" Harm answered, frowning like he always did when he was nervous.   
  
"Well, 'The Twilight Zone' is on later but you babies can't watch it 'cause we wouldn't want you to wet your bed and go running to mommy."   
  
I blushed at this. I hate it when he brings up my bed-wetting days, like he was born potty-trained or something. Besides, I stopped wetting my bed when I was real little, around five or something.   
  
"Go away, Richie," Harm glared.   
  
"Who's gonna make me?" Richie smirked. "Little Harmie here?"   
  
I wished Harm's father were here, Richie never said these things when he was around. He was so nice and polite then because Lieutanent Rabb was a pilot and he knew everything. But Lieutenant Rabb was flying planes in The War; Harm said he wasn't due back until March.   
  
"Richard, I hope you're not making fun of the little ones." Richie jerked to see Mom had entered the room.   
  
"Yes, Mom- I mean, no, Mom."   
  
I loved Mom. She made Richie behave sometimes_ *and*_ she baked the best chocolate-chip cookies in the whole block. I just wished she smiled as much as Mrs Rabb and the other moms. Grandma once told me that she didn't smile very often because Daddy had died in The War. I was just a baby then. The War killed a lot of people.   
  
Mom managed to smile a little at me and Harm. "How are you today, Harm?"   
  
"I'm fine, thank you, Mrs Hamilton."   
  
"Are you ready for Santa coming tonight?"   
  
"Yes, Ma'am."

We had both been ready from the beginning of December. Christmas was my favourite time of the year.   
  
There was a knock at the front door and Mom went to answer it, leaving Richie with us. He glanced in the direction of where Mom was then came and knelt down in from us, blocking the television.   
  
"Hey, babies, are you excited for when Santa Claus comes tonight?" he asked. He sounded like he was being nice but I knew he was only pretending and he was going to be mean.   
  
"Yeah," Harm said. He was only little but he knew what Richie was like too.   
  
"Good, good...but you know he might not come?"   
  
"He _*will*_ come," Harm exclaimed. "He always comes to us- we're good."   
  
"Yes, of course you are, Harmie, but his twin brother might come instead, y'know."   
  
I didn't know Santa had a twin brother but then Richie was a grown-up, he was in the seventh grade so he knew more. I wondered if that meant we'd all get two lots of presents. That had never happened before but it would be neat if that did happen.   
  
Richie inched closer. "But guess what, babies? His twin brother is evil and mad."   
  
Harm and I gasped. An evil Santa? How could that happen.   
  
"Yeah, his name is _*Satan*_ Claus and he likes to eats little boys. Eats them all up in their beds." For effect, Richie licked his lips and smirked.   
  
Me and Harm screamed when the door swung open. We both thought that Satan Claus would be standing there. Instead, Mom and Sergeant Elliott walked into the room. Usually Sergeant Elliott smiled when he saw us but he wasn't smiling this time. In fact, I noticed Mom looked the way I did when I was trying not to cry. I thought this was strange because grown-ups didn't cry much and Mom only cried at night when she thought I couldn't hear her.   
  
Sergeant Elliott knelt down in front of Harm and put his hand on his shoulder. "Little Harm, your mom wants you to come home, son."   
  
"Why? Have I done anything wrong, sir?"

I thought that maybe Harm was in trouble for playing by the river when he wasn't allowed but then I would have been in trouble too. Did they put kids in jail for that?   
  
Sergeant Elliott smiled but there was something in his eyes that made me nervous for some reason. "No, you haven't done anything but your mom needs to tell you something."   
  
Like the good boy he was, Harm said good-bye to me and followed Sergeant Elliott to the front door. As they were leaving, Mom ruffled Harm's hair, kissing him softly on his cheek.   
  
"We'll be here for you, honey," I heard her whisper to him.   
  
What a weird thing to say. Mom was always here, where else would she be? I watched Harm and Sergeant Elliott get into the police car then it drove away before turning to Mom.   
  
"Is Harm going to jail, Mom?" I asked.   
  
I found it strange that Richie hadn't made a joke or laughed at us getting into trouble. He loved it when we were told off. I looked at him and I swallowed hard when I saw him crying quietly. What had happened? Mommy was crying and so was Richie.   
  
I was too shocked to run away when Mom pulled us both into a hug. Even Richie didn't say anything when cuddles from your mom were a girly thing to do.   
  
I didn't understand what Mom meant when she said, "We have to help Harm and his mother, we have to be there for him."   
  
**********************************************************   
**Danzigard Elementary School**   
**San Diego, California**   
**January 10th 1970**   
"Wanna play 'Wars' with us?"   
  
I looked up to see my friends Gavin and Jamie standing in front on me. I had been playing on the swings most of recess, not really thinking of anything. I liked the swings, they helped me forget when I had problems. Today was the first day after the Christmas holidays and though I usually enjoyed school, I wasn't in the mood for it just now.   
  
"Nah, I don't feel like playing," I replied to my friends.   
  
All Gavin and Jamie wanted to do was play 'Wars'. I used to like the game but that was before I found out my Daddy was killed in The War, after that the game didn't seem quite so fun. And now Lieutenant Rabb was missing in The War, his plane had been shot down and the other soldiers couldn't find him. Richie told me that maybe the Bad Men had him and were holding him prisoner. Usually, Richie had this horrible smile when he told me stories that he knew would scare or upset me but this time he looked serious and that made me even more scared...scared that what he was saying was true.   
  
"Have they found Harm's dad yet?" Jamie asked, sitting on the swing next to me.   
  
"No."   
  
"Do you think they will?"   
  
"I don't know... I hope so."   
  
I had looked for Harm today but I didn't think he was at school. He was only in first grade while I was in the second grade so he should have been where all the little kids' played but he wasn't, and his teacher told me he was absent when I asked her. Harm loved school as much as I did so I found it strange that he was missing the first day back.   
  
Gavin took the swing on the other side of me. "Why won't you play?"   
  
He always wanted an answer to everything. "I dunno...I just don't want to."   
  
"Is it 'cause Harm isn't here?"   
  
"Yeah, I suppose."   
  
"He's just a little kid, why do you care so much about where he is?" Gavin sighed then looked over at Jamie. "Come on, Jamie, let's go. Recess is nearly over and we ain't played nothing yet."   
  
I watched them run off, pretending their arms were machine guns. They were playing a game about dying, a game where people pretended to kill each other. I had had enough of death to want to make a game out of it. Instead, I thought about what Gavin had said about Harm. It wasn't really the smartest thing to be a second grader and have a friend who's only a silly little first grader.   
  
_*Yeah, Harm was just a little kid,* _I thought, _*but he's also my best friend.*_   
  
**********************************************************   
**The Rabb Residence**   
**San Diego, California**   
**January 10th**   
For all the times I had visited my best friend's house, this was the first time I remembered feeling scared. I don't know why exactly; this was Harm's house, Mom called it my second home. Suddenly, as I reached to knock on the door, I just wanted to run away. I took a deep breath to gather my strength- this was my best friend, I had to do this...I had to be there for him and not just because Mom told me to.   
  
About five seconds after I had knocked, I decided no-one was home and I was ready to bolt. Playing 'Wars' with Gavin and Jamie sounded like a good idea after all. As soon as I turned, the door opened and Mrs Rabb appeared. Her eyes were a horrible red and puffy like my eyes after I had been crying when I broke my arm last summer. She was trying to smile but her lips were wobbly and I could see she wasn't in the mood for being happy.   
  
"Hello, Robbie," she said. Her voice sounded strange, the way mine went when Richie was pretending to strangle me. "How are you today?"   
  
"Er...hi, Mrs Rabb...Um, I'm fine. Is Harm coming out to play?"   
  
"He's already outside, I think he's by the swing."   
  
"Thank you," I replied, quickly moving away to search for Harm.   
  
I felt I should say something to Mrs Rabb but I didn't know what. When Devon Rosstor's father drowned last year, the teacher told him that she was sorry that had happened. I didn't understand that, how could saying you're sorry help since it wouldn't bring the dead person back.   
  
Luckily, Mrs Rabb just gave me a small smile before closing the door. I liked her big smiles better.   
  
I found Harm swinging on the tyre that hung on the huge willow tree by the Rabbs' backyard. It was his favourite place when he wanted to think or to be alone. I knew he would always be here whenever the bigger kids had been picking on him. And I should have known he'd be here when his father was missing.   
  
"Hi," I greeted to him, unsure of what else to say.   
  
Harm frowned and looked up. "Hi," he replied.   
  
"Uh...how's things?"   
  
"Okay, I guess."   
  
Harm always looked like a little kid; I mean, I knew he _*is*_ a little kid (unlike me, of course) but he looked much younger than the other first graders. He was short and he had what my mom called a 'baby-face'. Lieutenant Rabb used to tell him that when he was older he'd get bigger, that when he was older he might even grow to _*six*_ feet. I suppose since Lieutenant Rabb isn't here anymore, as Harm's best friend, I'd tell him instead...just until his dad came home again.   
  
We were both quiet for a while. Harm swung gently on the tree swing and I sat on the grass, picking at my sneakers. I wanted to tell him so much about how it was without having a dad and that things would be okay. They'd find Lieutenant Rabb soon and everything would return to normal, maybe even The War would end. In some ways, I was even kind of jealous. At least Harm _*had* _a dad, mine died before I was born so I didn't what it was to have a father.   
  
"Robbie, I'm going to go look for him," Harm suddenly announced.   
  
I looked up quickly. "Huh? How can you do that?"   
  
"Easy. I'll go to Vietnam, map out where my dad crashed and I'll look for him there." He was speaking as if he was just going to look for his baseball in the fields.   
  
"You can't go to Vietnam! You're just a little kid!"   
  
"I can and I will!" Harm said, sounding angry now. "And I'm not a little kid, I'm in first grade."   
  
Oh, wow! First grade was nothing. Harm was so stupid to think he could find his father; he wasn't even allowed into the woods alone, how could he go to Vietnam?   
  
"I bet you don't even know where Vietnam is?" I challenged.   
  
"Yes, I do. It's...it's near China."   
  
"Gee, that narrows things down."   
  
"Well, I'll find out but I'm going to find him. I will. I'll hitch a ride to the airport or get a boat to China then I'll find my way to Vietnam. Dad said I can do anything I want if I got faith."   
  
I knew Lieutenant Rabb wasn't talking about running away into some country where a war was going on. This was pure craziness, Danny would say Harm needed to be locked up in the nut house if he heard any of this and for the first time I would agree with my brother. Harm would never be able to find his dad, the cops would find him before he even stepped out of the city limits.   
  
"You can come too, if you want," Harm offered. "I _*can*_ do this."   
  
It was then I realised Harm was really going to do this. One of the main reasons I hung around with Harm was that he wasn't like most other kids, when he was determined to do something then he did it. He had more guts than kids Richie's age. It was also for that reason that I sometimes worried for him. Like last year, Evan Macleod dared Harm to climb to the top of the water tower and instead of refusing, Harm agreed. I remember feeling so sick when I watched him nearly lose his grip about twenty feet up...But would Harm really try to runaway to Vietnam?   
  
That same sick feeling returned when I knew that answer was 'yes'.   
  
"How can you do this?" I whispered. "What about your mom?"   
  
"I gotta. My mom spends the whole night crying. She thinks I can't hear but I can. She'll be happy again if Dad came back, I know she would...If this was your mom and dad, you'd do the same."   
  
I would too; I'd do anything to stop my mom from crying at night.   
  
And I'd do anything to stop my best friend from doing something I knew he shouldn't do, no matter how much he wanted to.   
  
"Hey, come with me," I said, jumping to my feet.   
  
"Where?"   
  
"Just come on already."   
  
Harm followed me back to my house and into my attic. I knew he was wondering what was up with me but I didn't explain. I was always the kid of the family and I normally got everything I wanted from Mom and my grandparents because they thought I was so cute and all. It was a role I kind of enjoyed and I knew I'd hate it if Mom had another baby. Still, now was time for me to behave like a grown-up and stop Harm from going to look for his dad. And the idea that came to me would either do that or would make him hate me.   
  
While I searched for the object I hoped could convince Harm not to go through with his stupid plan, he sat on the floor looking at the tiny model jets my dad used to build before he left for The War. Mom said he'd made some of them when he was just a boy.   
  
"My dad crashed in one like this," Harm said, holding up a jet. He picked up a bi-plane. "And my grandfather was shot down in one of these."   
  
I blinked. "I guess you won't be going anywhere near a plane then, huh?"   
  
Harm just smiled. "No way, Robbie, I'm definitely gonna fly some day. I just gotta grown some."   
  
Maybe Harm _*was*_ mad. Why would Harm want to get in a plane if both his dad and granddad were shot down? It was like a curse and Harm would be next-in-line. I knew all about curses since my uncle told me the story of some boy king in Egypt and when some men broke into his tomb they all died. It was quite an interesting story. I only hoped what happened to his dad and granddad was not a curse and it would never happen to Harm.   
  
Suddenly, I found what I was looking for. I crawled over to Harm to show him. It was a hard-backed notebook with the sleeve covered in little pictures of baseballs and basketballs.   
  
"What's that?" he asked.   
  
"My baby book," I said. "It's kinda like a journal, my dad got it for me when Mom told him she was gonna have me. He was going to fill it for every month of my life until I was twenty-one then he'd give it to me as a record of when I was a kid."   
  
Richie had a baby book too which he kept locked in his room like it was gold. Sometimes, on the anniversary of Dad's death or when I asked him about Dad, he would let me look at it. Dad had taken it to Vietnam with him where he wrote in it even though he was away from Richie, and his war buddy had sent it back to Mom when Dad was killed. Only a quarter of it was only filled out, up until the sixth month after Richie's fifth birthday. Not a single page of my book was filled in though. He died before I was born.   
  
"That's a pretty neat idea," Harm commented. "But what does that got to do with me?"   
  
This time I was the one who smiled. "Since neither of us knows much about Vietnam and the soldiers are already looking for your dad then it's pretty stupid for us to go there. I mean, we'll get killed quick 'cause we're so small and know nothing."   
  
Harm looked like he was going to argue but instead nodded slightly. "Yeah, so?"   
  
"Well, I thought that starting from today we could write everything we see on the TV and in the newspapers about Vietnam and The War so when we go, we won't look so dumb. We'll find maps and stuff too. We'll write it all in the book and take it with us when we do go to Vietnam although they'll probably find your dad soon so we won't need it. But if we do, it will help us when we go to Vietnam. What d'you think?"   
  
"I dunno...It's _*your*_ book, Robbie, your dad gave it to you."   
  
"And I'm giving it to you. Harm, it's just a blank book- my dad gave me neater stuff like his ships and some of his medals. They're much better to remember him by."   
  
Slowly, Harm nodded. "Okay, it's a good idea. But _*I* _will find him if the soldiers can't."   
  
"'Course you will."   
  
From that day on, we poured over newspapers, TV reports, books, and everything we could find about Vietnam and The War that we could fill in the notebook. Some of it was quite hard as neither of us could read very well, but sometimes our moms or the teachers and even Richie would help us. They all thought we were just educating ourselves and none of them knew the real reason of what we were doing. That was a secret that only me and Harm would know.   
  
**********************************************************   
**US Airbase**   
**Laos, Vietnam**   
**June 15th 1980**   
Commander Tom Boone stared at the boy, half-stunned that a kid so young could have managed to even sneak past customs and half-admiring the teenager's gumption. Of course, there was no way in hell would Boone allow young Harmon Rabb Junior to stay in the hell-hole like Vietnam. This was his best friend's only son, and while the war may be over the country was still suffering and it was no place for an American boy.   
  
"You know I have to send you back, don't you, Little Harm?" Boone told the boy, patiently.   
  
"But, Uncle Tom,_ *please*_...I just wanna find my dad, I just want him to come home," the sixteen-year-old ended painfully.   
  
That statement tore at the older man's heart. Every friend who had died in the war and every friend whose fate was still undiscovered still haunted him both in his dreams and in his waking nightmares. As much as he wanted to believe otherwise, Boone knew that no-one would ever find Harmon Rabb Senior, least of all a sixteen-year-old child. The Hammer had no doubt died at the hands of his tormentors' years ago. And yet, for all his composed military detachment, he found he did not want to dash Little Harm's hopes.   
  
"I know you do, son, but this is not the way to go about it."   
  
"You sound just like Robbie did."   
  
"Who?"   
  
"No-one, just an old friend."   
  
"Well, maybe you should listen to this old friend...Look, Little Harm-"   
  
"I'm not called 'Little Harm' anymore," the boy stated, indignantly. "I'm not a little kid."   
  
As much as Boone wanted to disagree, he thought with amusement that such a response would only earn him a black eye. Little Harm- or just Harm as the kid seemed to prefer now- might be little more than a child but he now stood at just under six foot tall and was still growing. Whilst no weakling himself, something told the Naval officer that this boy was very much his father's son and was determined to be taken seriously, no matter how he achieved that.   
  
Sometimes, Boone wondered what Trisha Rabb thought when she looked at her son, a boy who was growing into his father's image with everyday that passed. What was little more than a passing resemblance when Harm was small, was now so obvious as the kid reached adulthood. The Hammer might be gone but he lived on in his son.   
  
It was then Boone noticed the hard-back notebook that Harm clutched possessively under his arm. "What's that you got there, slugger?"   
  
"It's nothing...It's just some stuff I collected about Vietnam," Harm added. He reluctantly handed the book to the Naval officer.   
  
Boone flicked through the book, becoming rather impressed by the material. The first few chapters of the book were written in an almost immature tone, probably done when the Hammer disappeared ten years ago, but the latter chapters surprised him by the concise and accurate data that no doubt required a great deal of research. There was also various maps, diagrams and pictures included. Quite an interesting little book that could give a professional researcher a run for their money.   
  
What really touched the older man was the words inscribed on the front page: 'Operation- Find Harm's Dad, by Harm and Robbie'. It was dated January 11th 1970 making Harm only six years old at the time with Boone guessing this Robbie kid was not much older. The devotion this child had to his father was heart-rending, and the help Harm had received from his little friend proved that children were not as incapable as adults thought them to be.   
  
"This had got some good stuff," Boone admitted. "Yes, some very good stuff, son."   
  
"I had help."   
  
Boone smiled. "Yes, I had a feeling you did...I'll tell you what, I'll ring your mom and tell her you're with me. And _*if* _she agrees and you promise to stick by me like glue and do as I say, you can stay until I go back to the States next month."   
  
"Really?!" screeched Harm, his handsome face breaking into a dazzling grin. Immersing himself in the boy's enthusiasm made Boone wonder if fatherhood was really as bad as he first assumed.   
  
"Yeah, really..." He sobered. "But, Harm, you do realise that we probably won't find your father. It's been ten years- that's a long time for a man to be missing. I just don't want you to get your hopes up too much, kid."   
  
Harm nodded. "I know that, Uncle Tom, but I have to try. He's my dad," he said in a voice that was far too solemn for a child his age.   
  
"I know he is, and I know he'd sure as hell be proud of you, kid, and I give you every hope that you find him."   
  
"Thanks, Uncle Tom, for everything."   
  
Boone handed the book back. "That's a lot of work you've done there, Harm, and I think if anyone is going to find the Hammer it will be you."   
  
"Yeah, with a little help from a friend," Harm whispered, with a secret smile that was obviously meant for that Robbie kid.   
  
**********************************************************   
**The Vietnam War Memorial**   
**Washington DC**   
**December 24th 2000**   
Commander Harmon Rabb Junior smiled faintly as he leafed through the now tattered notebook written in childish scrawls. He had forgotten about it until a couple of days ago when his mother found it after looking for an old photograph album. He still remembered his six-year-old innocence and determination as he and Robbie had painstakingly watched various news reports and filled in the book. If Mac had known she would have seen it as a sign that his 'obsession' had been evident since his childhood.   
  
It was more than just a journal for him; it was a lifeline to his father and a way of dealing with the whole situation at a time when he was too young to do anything helpful. It helped him to have faith until his father was found.   
  
Harm placed the book down on the marble. "Hi Dad, I don't think I'll be needing this anymore."   
  
A part of him dearly wanted to keep the journal- it reminded him so much of what was the beginning of his quest to find his father and it held memories one of his closest friends he had ever had. Still, he felt that letting go of this book- that represented the effect his father's disappearance had on his childhood- was another part of the grieving process in accepting his father's death. Besides, as Robbie had put it years ago, he had so many other possessions that were a part of his father and a gift to him.   
  
And for all the sadness and memories the book had brought back, Harm felt as if it had almost rekindle a friendship from his youth. Robert Hamilton had been his best friend since he was two. They had remained best friends until he were thirteen when the Hamiltons' moved to Florida. When Harm was last down visiting some old friends in his childhood stomping-grounds, one of the older neighbours had mentioned Robbie was now practicing psychology down in Orlando. It was such a fitting career for his old friend. It had been Robbie who was there for him when he had been at his most vulnerable, the older boy had helped Harm see sense and find a way to cope with the disappearance of his father when no-one else could.   
  
Taking one last look at the memorial and the diary, Harm turned and left deciding it was time to track down a very old and dear friend.   
  


** THE END**

++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++   
This was not my usual kind of story but I found it interesting to write and you don't know how difficult it is to write from the point of view of a seven-year-old boy. I'm thinking of doing a similar story for Mac and her 'happy' childhood. Anyway, tell me what you think of this- was it good or should I just stick to my usual torturing Harm in my long stories?

   [1]: ../../../../m.a.jooty@dundee.ac.uk



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